


Dark Side

by Imagining_in_the_Margins



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst and Romance, BDSM, Consensual, Consensual Sex, Creampie, Dom Spencer, Dom Spencer Reid, Dom/sub, Exhibitionism, F/M, Heavy BDSM, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Nicknames, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Oral Sex, Prison, Prison Sex, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Roughness, Safeword Use, Safewords, Self-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:27:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24608425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imagining_in_the_Margins/pseuds/Imagining_in_the_Margins
Summary: What can Reader say? Spencer in a prison jumpsuit is just too hard to resist.
Relationships: Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader, Spencer Reid/You
Comments: 12
Kudos: 195





	1. Chapter One

I had this study planned for years. I knew when I would be in this prison and what I would be faced with for a long time. I’d studied specifically for coming face to face with darkness and evil and not showing weakness.

But I wasn’t prepared for this.

The first day I met Spencer Reid he had been in the prison for a couple weeks. I could tell the other inmates hadn’t taken kindly to him, which was only to be expected.

It took almost no time talking to him to realize that he was innocent. Either because they were right, he had some undiagnosed schizophrenic break, or because he was being framed. I found the former very unlikely.

That should have been the end of my interactions with him. He wasn’t evil, so I had no reason to talk to him. Right?

Well, that’s the thing. Is it possible for us to house evil, but just decide not to wield it? Because I saw something dark in his eyes. Like a lightbulb flickering in a poorly lit alley.

I wanted to be consumed by that darkness. Just for a moment before the lights come back on.

He was watching me much closer since I dismissed my guard. I wasn’t getting anywhere with that man here, and I wasn’t scared of Spencer. He was trying to get out of here; he wasn’t going to hurt me.

Although against protocol, I insisted they remove his cuffs. He had no indications of violence, and they would be more than happy to do it for a physician, so why not a psychologist?

We had talked about so much in a short period of time. I was fascinated by everything he had to offer. His story was one of pain and ruthless dedication. It hurt to know that a man could be through so much just to end up here.

In the time we were talking I’d eventually moved to the other side of the table to sit with him as I took notes, handing him the earlier results I’d found of his fellow inmates, many of whom were no longer there.

But he wasn’t paying attention to them. His eyes were caught on me. My lips, my shoulders, my exposed legs in a pencil skirt.

I crossed my legs instinctively under his gaze. He licked his lips in response, scraping his teeth against his bottom lip in a way that made me feel faint.

“Is there something wrong, Dr. Reid?” I asked softly, almost afraid of his answer.

Those dark, leather colored eyes flickered up to my eyes as he released a captive breath.

“Are you afraid of me? Of being in here alone with me?”

I squirmed in my seat, then leaned forward, a gentle hand on his thigh closest to me. He was watching it as I just barely moved it with a smile.

“No. I may have only known you for a brief moment, but I can tell you are a good man.”

The look of disagreement on his face caused my stomach to flip inside me, eerily excited for his response. He leaned forward, speaking the words like a secret.

“I understand now… why the men we interview always ask our female agents that question.”

My heart rate was rising exponentially as he put his recently freed hand on my thigh, sliding it between my crossed legs and prying them apart. I gasped, but he continued talking like it wasn’t happening, his eyes following his own hand as it passed the threshold of my skirt.

“Because I’d like to think I am a good man, Doctor. But right now there’s only _one thing_ on my mind.” 

My eyes could barely stay open from the overwhelming excitement and longing that flared within me. My chest heaved with each short burst of breath as he whispered.

“Do you know what it is?”

My entire body trembled as I tried to shake my head no, goosebumps following in the wake of his hand. I swallowed, and behind the stoic, harsh facade, I swear I saw a smile in his eyes.

“I think you do, _Bambi_.”

That nickname was new. I wasn’t even able to ask him what it meant, too overwhelmed with what was currently happening.

I didn’t push him away or move at all under his touch. That is, aside from the tremors wrecking my legs. A soft mewl floated in the air between us, still tingling on my lips as he brushed against the thin, damp fabric of my underwear.

His pupils were blown, absorbing the image of my now flushed face staring at him with wanton desire. I swear the air between us would ignite at any second. Still, the tension in the room was nothing compared to that inside me.

Although I made no movement to show my approval, he could see it plain my response. He looked down at my neck, no doubt recognizing the quick rate of my pulse as his knuckles also picked up their pace running up and down against my heat.

When I did finally move, it was a subtle rolling of my hips into his hand. This time the smirk on his face was obvious, and my hand on his leg clutched with a newfound fortitude.

My body was slowly leaning forward into my grip until it wasn’t subtle at all. One lithe finger hooked into the side of my underwear, gathering my wetness and spreading it up over my clit.

Choking on a sob, my entire body responded as I bucked against his hand, trying not to scream. This torturous man could clearly tell I was reaching my peak, and he still had that goddamn fucking smirk on his face.

I hated myself for being so turned on by this, but I couldn’t control my responses. As strong as the desire to close my eyes was, I wanted to watch the way he took pleasure in my undoing.

Fully ready to give in to his ministrations, my other hand reached down to grab his forearm, feeling the muscle shift under my grip as he continued. I opened my mouth to finally let him hear just how out of control he made me, but the sound never came out.

**_Bang. Bang. Bang._ **

“Times up,” a male guard yelled from the other side of the door.

 ** _Fuck_**.

I whimpered at how quickly Spencer removed his hand, easily pretending like nothing had been happening when the door opened.

Looking over at him was a mistake, because he made direct eye contact with me as he put his finger in his mouth, cleaning off the evidence of what was actually happening in here.

Trying and horribly failing at ignoring that, I cleared my throat, trying to smooth down my skirt and hair as he held out his hands to me.

Looking at him still out of breath, I realized he was asking me to put the handcuffs back on him. He could clearly do it himself, so I’m assuming he was just teasing me. I did it for him anyway, watching the amusement he got from forcing me to confront his position as a prisoner.

A prisoner who I had nearly just let give me an orgasm, in the prison. Oh, god. I’m a terrible person.

He didn’t seem to mind, though. No, the entire time he was escorted out he had a secretive little smirk on his face.

Please, _god_ , Spencer, live long enough in here to see me again.

— _A Week Later_ —

He was the last person on my roster today. In all honesty, I probably didn’t need to see him this time. A large part of me was also _terrified_ to see him again.

After all, not only was this _highly_ unethical and a little bit scary to learn about myself, he would know just how desperate I was for him. Did I really care about that _that_ much though?

Clearly not, because he’s walking into the interview room right now, and I’m already shaking under the table.

Unbothered, he took a seat across the table from me rather than the seat next to me, staring at me with one quirked eyebrow and his lips in a flat line. He was reading me. It wasn’t hard to do, let me tell you.

“Do you want me to stay?” The same guard as before asked, and I jumped at the question. I had actually immediately forgotten his presence, and I shook my head, realizing that my stance looked fearful.

“Ah, no. Um, can y-you… take off his handcuffs.”

The man looked at me like I was insane, and I clasped my hands together on the table in front of me as I curtly said, “Please.”

Shrugging, he grabbed Spencer’s hands that were offered to him, shedding the metal from his wrists. “Thanks. You can go now.”

Once the metal door clanged shut, I let out a breath I was apparently holding. My relief didn’t last long, because Spencer’s voice reverberated throughout the room.

“Hello again, Bambi.”

A chill ran down my spine as I nervously fixed my hair, picking up my pen and opening my portfolio as I tried to focus. Suddenly remembering the two cups on the table, I pushed one over to him.

“It’s coffee. With sugar.” I mumbled, refusing to make eye contact with the man staring intently at me as he took the drink.

“I hope you don’t mind, Dr. Reid. I wanted to apologize for my behavior last visit.”

He continued to happily sip at the drink, leaning back in his chair and waiting for me to continue.

“That was v-very inappropriate and I-I…” That damn smirk was back, and I could barely focus. “It was not like me. I want to assure you that I am a professional woman.”

This bastard actually fucking _chuckled_ in response.

“I’m sure you are.”

Raising my hand to my mouth, I chewed nervously on the end of my pen, trying to ignore the playful intonation. I felt like I was going to die. Every time he was in the room I felt like I was suffocating.

Apparently aware of my mounting discomfort, he stood up, dragging his hand across the table as he walked around to join me on my side of the table.

I was shivering at the sound of his chair scooting against the concrete floor as he pulled it closer to me. He leaned over to my ear, and I expressed my thoughts in the form of a nervous squeak.

“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m calling you _Bambi_?”

With a heavy gulp, I laid both of my hands flat against the paper in front of me. “No, I’m not.”

He chewed on his lips, clearly trying to hide his amusement. It wasn’t working. He looked positively _pleased_ with himself as he clarified, “But you want to know.”

“I-I want to know if it’s relevant,” I replied to the cocky bastard. However, my body had other plans, turning towards him before I realized it was a terrible idea.

“Oh, it’s _very_ relevant to me.”

I clenched my jaw, realizing that he was just teasing me, but also actually being curious. He knew that. He was better at this than I was, and I wasn’t exactly trying to hide my interest in him.

“Then tell me,” I sighed.

Repositioning himself, he spread his legs so that I was between them. I looked down at the way he was caging me in to my chair, my breathing betraying me by shortening.

“Your legs shake when I so much as look at you,” he said curiously, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward to meet my eyes, which were avidly trying to avoid him.

But I couldn’t ignore the way he dragged his now more callused fingertips over my thigh, relishing in the way they shuddered.

“… Just like that.”

I kept my legs pressed together tightly this time, trying not to give him the same easy access he had before. It wasn’t working. No, this time he enjoyed the resistance in my legs as he pushed his hand between my legs.

“I wonder what else I can make you do.”

My hand flew down to his forearm before I could stop it, my other hand grabbing a piece of paper that crinkled under the pressure. “D-Dr. Reid!”

His head fell to the side as he continued to watch me, his fingers gently massaging the tense muscles of my thigh as they inched their way closer. 

“Yes?” He called, leading to me immediately snapping back, “This is w-wildly inappropriate.”

Leaning even closer now, his breath fanned across my face as he mumbled, “And yet… You _really_ want me to.”

His fingers dug into my skin harder now, pulling my legs apart despite my resistance. Once he got far enough, I gave in, my leg slamming down against the chair from the force he had continued to apply.

“Tell me, why is it a _professional woman_ like yourself has to come to a prison to be satisfied? It can’t be for lack of willing men. You’re very beautiful.”

My eyes fluttered shut as he breached the flimsy cotton of my underwear yet again, this time noticing the much more provocative lace. He smirked, still keeping his eyes on mine to watch my reactions.

“What about this excites you the most, Bambi? Tell me. I want to know.”

“S-Stop,” I pleaded, although my body gave the exact opposite command, rubbing against his hand cupping my arousal.

“ **No** ,” he aptly responded.

My head fell back, my legs tightening around his arm as he pushed two fingers as deep as they could go into me. Grabbing onto the forearm between my legs, I began to grind against his fingers.

“I thought you said to stop. Now look at you. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

He laughed as he spoke, his cheeky grin not nearly as attractive as his now visibly erect member beneath his pants.

A desperate whine erupted from my throat, and I forced one of my hands to move to his leg, reaching up to grab him through the fabric.

The frustrated growl that came from him in response to my hand finally sliding over his erection only made his touch more intoxicating. Fervently stroking him over his clothes, his hands became more determined to finish me as fast as possible.

I was _not_ getting interrupted this time.

Spencer used his free hand to grab hold of my chair, yanking it closer to him. I actually cried out at the sudden movement, lifting slightly off his hand diligently working inside me.

“Sit **_down_** ,” he ordered, and I released a small sob as I complied, resting myself down on his hand.

His palm was now working harshly against my neglected pearl and I was starting to see stars in my vision, my hand now applying pressure to his arousal.

“Come on, Bambi,” his voice shook, his fingers shifting to stroke against my most sensitive spot while he applied crushing pressure to the front.

“Show me what you’re capable of.”

Finally finding my release, I rewarded him with a riskily loud moan, my eyes half lidded and clouded with pleasure. He didn’t still his hands until I was basically limp, moving my hands to hold myself up on the table and chair.

“Fuck,” I whispered, waiting for the room to correct itself. Spencer wasn’t about to wait, though. No, he had waited enough, I suppose.

The same hand that had been inside of me roughly grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling me inches away from his face.

“Now finish what you fucking started.”

With that, he pushed my head down to his lap, and I grabbed onto his knees for balance.

My heart was racing at the forcefulness of his requests. There was no one here to stop him. I realized now that I couldn’t _really_ say no.

Not like I wanted to.

I didn’t even have to remove him from his pants, he was polite enough to do it himself, keeping his grip on my hair with his other hand.

The sight of him was almost too much to bear. I was already lightheaded from what had happened; it was a recipe for disaster that I _really_ wanted to pursue.

Sensing the slightest amount of hesitance, he loosened his grip. It was his reminder that he wouldn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to.

So when I raised my hands and wrapped one around his shaft as I ran my tongue up its length, that was me reminding him I wanted to be here.

The guttural moan he gave as I took the head of his arousal into my mouth was my favorite noise so far. He was less patient now, applying a heavy pressure to the back of my head while his hips moved up into me.

“ _Fuck_ , Bambi,” he groaned as I flattened my tongue against him, drawing more of him into me.

I knew it wouldn’t be long before he finished - After all, he was a _fucking prisoner_. He hadn’t been with anyone else since he got here (at least, I’m assuming).

My hand still anchored around the base of his manhood began to move, matching the pace of my head as it bobbed up and down. His body language was so relaxed, like this was the most natural position in the world for us to be in.

I wanted to please him _so_ badly it _hurt_.

Readjusting his grip on my hair, he began to push down on me once more. His hips beginning to rock, I understood that he would be finishing soon.

A loud moan against him gave him a newfound urgency to finish. Holding me down with both hands now, he thrust wildly into my mouth as I choked on the length of him.

Tears stung at my eyes, spit dripping down my mouth as I cried out, the sounds stifled on his cock. With one last jagged movement, his seed filled my mouth and throat as he held me down as far as he could go. I hollowed my cheeks as much as I could, sucking on him as he found his release.

“Jesus _fucking_ ** _Christ_** ,” he growled, holding me down for a few moments longer and feeling the way I struggled against him.

Once he pulled me off, I swallowed harshly before taking a gasping breath for air. My chin covered in saliva and his essence, the look of satisfaction on his face was all the praise I sought.

Finally letting go of my tousled hair, he tucked himself back into his pants, running a hand through his own messy brown locks. His chest puffed and his pulse visibly wild, he licked his lips as he looked at the mess he had made of me.

“God, you’re so fucking _beautiful._ ”

With a crooked smile, I finally wiped at my mouth and cheeks to catch any smeared make up. I laughed just a bit, looking at him coyly from the side of my eyes, afraid to make direct eye contact with him. He had no problem outright ogling me as I stood up, readjusting my clothes with _very_ unstable legs.

“U-um, I-I…” I started, stammering nonsense as he continued to rake his eyes over me. How could he _still_ want more? I felt like I just ran an entire fucking marathon.

When I turned around to face him, he had apparently stood up and approached me already. It was easy to forget how much taller he was than me when we were sitting.

He towered over me, looking down at me like a predator ready to snatch his unassuming prey. My breath caught in my chest as he raised a single hand, resting it softly against the column of my throat.

“If you’re so good at that… I wonder what other talents you’re hiding from me.”

My legs were still wet with my previous release, causing them to slide against each other as I clamped them together.

“I’m not h-hiding anything, Dr. Reid.” I managed to finally speak, my voice still hoarse, especially with his hand applying a soft, uneven pressure around my neck.

“Not from you,” I concluded, craning my neck to give him better access.

He smiled, dragging me forward by my throat to crash our lips together. It wasn’t until now I realized that we hadn’t actually kissed yet, and my mind was swimming with all the things I wished I could do with this man.

His tongue explored the caverns of my mouth, clearly enjoying the way he tasted on me. I mewled again into his mouth, my hands coming up to grab onto the waistband of his pants, trying to stay upright.

**_Bang. Bang. Bang._ **

And just like that, his disposition changed. He pulled away from me, taking my bottom lip between his teeth as he did so. I whimpered at the loss, following his face forward until I couldn’t any more.

His hand around my throat was the last thing to leave. The air was painfully cold in comparison.

This time he cuffed himself, leaving the room with another secret smile and a farewell.

“Until next time, Bambi.”

— _One Month Later_ —

This was a much more tense visit than I was used to with him.

Pacing back and forth in the medical room, I chewed on my nails from the nerves.

It had been incredibly hard to get them to agree to this visit. Spencer had been placed in solitary confinement after a fight with another inmate where he had apparently _stabbed himself_?

I’m sure he had a reason for it, but Jesus fucking Christ. Was he trying to kill me, too?

More than anything, I wanted to make sure he was okay. Solitary confinement is hard enough for a regular person. But Spencer had other baggage that would make it _unbearable_.

The sliding click of the door as it opened came with it an overwhelming anxiety.

“Dr. Reid!” I shouted as I ran over to them, a soft hand resting on his unharmed, shackled arm.

The guard looked at me with narrowed eyes as I pushed Spencer’s hair out of his face, looking at the crazed look in his eyes with as much compassion as I could possibly feel.

“Take these restraints off him, for the love of God,” I muttered, holding the chains up with a pained shaking in my voice.

“He caused a _riot_ and nearly killed himself. That’s a bad id—“ 

“Take the fucking restraints off!” I screamed back, absolutely seething. “He’s in pain, not fucking crazy!”

Although his face remained stoic, I could tell from his labored breathing through his nose that what I was saying hit him harder than he was expecting.

He relented, likely figuring that it wasn’t worth it to worry about me if I really wanted to die. But I was convinced that Spencer wasn’t a fucking threat; especially not to me.

The guard didn’t even bother asking if I wanted him to stay. Tenderly, I rubbed Spencer’s wrists, extending his left arm to see the extent of the damage done to it.

“Oh, Spencer,” I painfully whispered. He was still silent, watching me with rapt fascination.

A loud click signaled the door locking behind the guard as he left. What happened next was an absolute blur.

I felt the breeze whip around me as Spencer’s hands roughly grabbed my hips, pushing me back until I crashed into the exam table bolted to the ground.

Trying not to yell at the sensation, I grabbed onto the table and looked up at the man pressing harshly into my skin.

“D-Dr. Reid?” I hesitantly asked, already weak to the way he handled my body like a fucking ragdoll.

Wrapping his good arm around me, he hoisted me up onto the exam table. I clung to him, my legs wrapping loosely around him, still worried about hurting him.

“Not Spencer now?” He asked, his mouth quickly distracting itself with laying sloppy kisses against my neck.

“I-I,” my stammering more frantic as he lacked any patience, a hand shoving my dress up over my hips.

“Where the fuck have you been, Bambi?” He crackled, a distinct sadness and resentment underlying his words. I was guilty but thrilled at the same time.

But this situation has always been messy.

“I-I’m sorry,” I choked out, his hands working to remove my underwear. When it became too difficult, likely because of his damaged arm, he resorted to yanking on them until the lace string snapped under the pressure.

A dark growl against my skin at the sound of the fabric breaking, he dragged his teeth against my neck before barking, “ _Sorry_ just isn’t good enough. Show me how _sorry_ you are.”

Not able to do anything under all the attention he was paying me, I just sat there helpless as he pulled down his pants, revealing his ready erection.

“B-but we don’t… There’s no c-condoms here,” I panted, a wild look in my eyes as he approached me, rubbing himself on my already dripping heat.

Bringing our faces together again, the fire in his eyes shrouding the atmosphere in dark plumes of smoke.

“Your call, Bambi,” he muttered against my lips.

After a few seconds of what I can only loosely call contemplation, I gripped onto his shoulders, pulling myself closer to him. The tip of his manhood barely breached my entrance, and my eyes were already rolling in the back of my head.

“Take me, Spencer,” I begged. “Please, god, take me.”

“Not God,” he reminded as he slammed into me in one swift motion. “Just me.”

The feeling of him inside of me was intoxicating. I’d never done anything even remotely like this, and I was hooked. I wrapped my legs around his waist, my arms falling back to try and prop myself up as he set an immediate, feverish pace.

The sounds of sex filling the area, my breath was frantic and wild. Eventually, I found something to hang onto. Leaning my back against the propped up table, I grabbed the handcuffs attached to the sides, holding onto them as the sound of chains rattled around us.

He must be enjoying the way I looked laid out for him, holding onto chains that had once held him down, because his thrusts became harsher. His hands were firm on my hips, holding me down so I could barely move.

Not for a lack of trying. I writhed underneath him, the bruising pace and strength of his thrusts riding that delicious border between pain and pleasure.

Clearly seeking more, Spencer leaned forward, a hand grabbing my chin to reorient my face towards him.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a fucking _month_ ,” he forced through clenched teeth. “That’s how long you made me wait to take what’s **mine**.”

It was so hard to keep looking at him with that feral look on his face, driving into me like he honestly wanted to tear me in two. I sobbed out a moan as my muscles began to tense around him.

“You belong to **_me_** , Bambi. Act like it.”

Swallowing down a scream, my back arched harshly into him, the tension in my stomach finally reaching the point of no return.

“I-I’m yours, Spencer,” I whimpered as my orgasm began to crash into me. Almost breathless, I somehow managed to let out another mangled phrase. “I’m _yours._ ”

I was honestly shocked he’d made it this long, his hips beginning to falter as his pace slowed dramatically. But his thrusts were just as violent, bottoming out in me as he finally came, my walls quivering vigorously around him.

The look of ecstasy on his face was undoubtedly worth whatever bruises would result from his hands. My legs shook like an earthquake, and I gave one last keen, breathy whine as I felt our mixed juices beginning to seep down my thigh.

“Good.” He finished, pulling out of me with a final grunt.

Dizzy and satiated, my arms toppled onto the exam table, my legs hanging uselessly off the edge. I closed my eyes, trying to put back together the pieces that Spencer had left in his wake.

But what I wasn’t expecting was the sound of running water. I looked over to see him wetting a washcloth, which he then used to begin cleaning up the mess dripping down my legs.

I reached down to take it from him, sitting up warily, still not trusting my vision to not rock. Cleaning myself up, I shifted so that Spencer could also lean against the table.

He took the position, rubbing the area around his leg where he had no doubt aggravated the wound.

“Did you hurt yourself?” I asked, watching him with a small pout from my peripherals.

“That’s a stupid question.”

Well, he’s not wrong. He _did_ stab himself. I snorted, covering my mouth as he smiled in response. “You’re such a troublemaker, Dr. Reid.”

I walked over to toss the washcloth into the laundry bin, strutting back over to him with a much more confident walk now. He watched with a strange mixture of pride and nostalgia.

“Confidence looks good on you.” He complimented, grabbing a handful of my dress to pull my body flush against his. I smiled bashfully under his scrutiny.

This time when his hand cupped under my chin it was gentle. I sighed into the touch, raising my chin to reveal my neck to him. But he didn’t grab it; instead he pressed a chaste kiss against my lips.

I blinked rapidly, looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“I missed you, Bambi.”

My heart leapt into my throat, and my lips quivered as I mumbled back, “I missed you, too.”

Still, within a few minutes he was preparing to leave. The guards hadn’t even come yet. He was leaving of his own volition, planning to return back to solitary for god knows how long.

We didn’t talk about when I would come back, knowing that it was never promised in this situation.

One more butterfly-soft kiss on the lips, and he let me lock his restraints once more.

“Thanks for giving me something to look forward to,” he uttered in the silence between us. “Until next time, Bambi.”

As he shuffled down the hall my heart shattered into pieces on the floor.

Please, _god,_ Spencer, live long enough in here to see me again.

— _Two Weeks Later_ —

I had called the prison nearly every day, but half the time they wouldn’t even confirm whether Spencer was even still there, nonetheless if he was in solitary confinement.

Our prison system was, in so many words, fucked up.

Thoughts of him consumed my life. I couldn’t do anything without remembering the feeling of his hands on my body and his lips on my own.

I wanted to see him again. I wanted to hold him and tell him how badly I missed that feeling he gave me. Not the sexual pleasure, although that certainly was a plus, but that raw, electric connection we shared.

**_Knock. Knock. Knock._ **

Confused by the sudden sound of hands rapping against my door, I walked slowly to the door. My hand hesitated over the handle, scared and thrilled to see what was on the other side.

I recognized this feeling.

As the handle turned in my hand, I opened the door to reveal Spencer, standing on my porch in a well-tailored suit. The vision knocked the breath from my lungs, and I nearly fainted.

“Hi, Bambi.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer Reid just showed up at your door as a free man.

“Hi, Bambi.”

The effects the words had on me were overwhelming and immediate. I dropped my cell phone from my hand, pausing with wide eyes before I bent over to pick it up, not ever taking my eyes off the man in front of me.

“D-Dr. Reid?” I stuttered, like it wasn’t obvious who he was. “What are you… doing here?”

My phone in my hand, I tried not to sound scared by his presence. After all, I find it _very_ unlikely that he had done something like escape from prison. If he did, he certainly wouldn’t show up at my door… right?

“I got out,” he said while fidgeting with his own hands, “I was released.”

It was so difficult to piece together what was going on. All I could think about was how different he looked in a suit compared to a jumpsuit and how he could manage to look so unassuming and so dangerous all at once.

“Got out?” I repeated, trying to force myself to understand the conclusion. “You’re… Oh. Wow, that-that’s amazing, Dr. Reid! Congratulations!”

“Thanks…” He mumbled, looking past me and through the door. I turned to follow his line of sight until I realized what he was trying to say.

“Can I come in?”

“Yes, of course!” I nearly shouted, moving out of the way and holding the door open as I smoothed down my dress and tucked the loose strands of hair behind my ears. “Please do.”

He walked in, and paused as I shut the door behind him, his eyes sweeping over the immediate area. I wondered what he saw, but I wasn’t going to ask.

“Your husband here?”

The question caught me off guard. With furrowed brows, I crossed my arms over my chest in the hopes of calming my pounding heart.

“Husband? I don’t have a—“

He slowly turned to look over his shoulder, a clever grin on his face as he waited for me to realize that it was never really a serious question. Rather, it was a jab at how I seemed to be a fan of breaking… _ethical norms_.

“Ah,” I said, “You’re making fun of me.”

“You make it easy,” he replied as he leaned against the wall beside us. I kept my arms close, despite those eagle eyes flickering down to them every few seconds. He was profiling me, and that was fine. In my own way, I was doing the same to him.

“What can I help you with?” I hoped he had an answer, if only because it would make this entire encounter so much simpler. But if he had come to my apartment for no reason at all… that might have been a problem.

“I wanted to thank you.” 

“Thank me?” I asked, watching the way his hands remained fixed in his pockets, “For what?”

He paused, thinking over his words before saying them. “I… I don’t know if I would have made it through what I did… without you.”

That made me scoff, finally unfolding my arms just to reach out to him, one hand resting on his chest and the other on his arm.

“Dr. Reid, you were perfectly capable of surviving by yourself.”

This was the first time in this interaction that he seemed shaken by my presence. He felt so warm under my fingers. I couldn’t believe I had almost forgotten the way it felt to touch him.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said with a lopsided smile, about to withdraw myself once more. But I couldn’t; he gripped my wrist close to his chest.

“You gave me something to look forward to.”

The soft pitter-pattering of his heart was hypnotic. The view of his large hand completely enveloping my wrist made my own heartbeat double as I spoke. “W-Well… that’s very flattering.”

I tried to pull away again, but this time he pulled me closer by his hold on my wrist. When I stumbled forward this time, my chest pressed against his. I peered up at him from my new perspective, noting the way he had maintained some of the scruff he had grown in prison.

He could read my mind, seeing the way the memory of how we had met rushed back to me all at once.

“I still make you nervous, don’t I?”

“No,” I said quickly before clarifying, “You never made me nervous.”

To attempt to prove my point, I stayed in our current positions. I did this even when his free hand started ghosting down my back. However, I couldn’t stop the way my eyelids fluttered shut and my body began to shiver.

“So why are you shaking?”

I couldn’t stop the smile creeping across my face at his question, and when I opened my eyes once more I saw him mirroring the very same expression. It didn’t last long, though, because as soon as his hand reached the base of my spine, it kept going, passing over the curves of my hips and to the edge of my dress.

“I-I’m… not nervous.” I chewed on my lower lip, trying not to shake as his lightly calloused fingers passed over the silken skin on my thigh.

“Something else then?”

“Yes,” I panted. His hand rose enough to begin to bunch the fabric, and I instinctively tilted forward on my toes to press more of myself against him.

“Tell me, Bambi,” he spoke softly, leaning close enough to my ear that I could hear the way he licked his lips “Were you just attracted to me because I was a prisoner… or was there something else?”

My legs pressed together entirely on their own, heat spiking between them.

 _Both_. I screamed in my mind, maintaining my silence out of fear I’d say the wrong thing.

“You never did tell me what part of that situation got to you.” He laughed before nipping his teeth against my ear. I shuddered at the sensation of his teeth, my breath becoming heavy as he continued. “Was it the power you had? Or the power you didn’t?”

“You would never need any power to control me, Dr. Reid.” It was the truth, and the only way I could think to answer that question without simply throwing myself into his arms. Then again, I did seriously consider doing exactly that.

“Oh, I know that. You would do anything for me.”

The arrogance in his voice was far more charming than it should have been, and if it weren’t completely correct, I might have been upset about it. But I couldn’t be. Because his hand on my thigh was just making small strokes up and down the side of my leg.

Mustering up every ounce of courage I possessed, I fought the strength of his grip to run both hands over his chest.

“Freedom looks good on you.” I wasn’t just talking about the suit, although it certainly helped. Quickly catching on to the shift in my demeanor, he raised his hand to grab a rough handful of my bottom, practically lifting me off the ground.

“You look better on me.”

There was something about the possessive way he said it, like I was displaying an ungodly amount of audacity for not having straddled him yet. I was inclined to agree.

“Show me.” I cheekily offered, beginning to back up so I could lead him down the hall to my room.

“Gladly,” he sighed, following immediately after me with all the eagerness of a teenage boy coming to his girlfriend’s house while her parents were out.

That ardor continued once we made it to my bedroom, with him pinning me against the wall moments after entering. I didn’t even bother reading into why he chose to do that when there was a bed a few feet away. Part of me had an idea already.

When he finally kissed me it was absolutely ravenous, his tongue practically taking over my entire mouth in seconds. Both his hands cupped my face, slowly migrating up through my hair as he practically tried to devour me.

I was a rag doll in his arms, pliable and ready for however he wanted to play. And although I knew he could sense this, he still stopped on his mission to lay claim to every inch of me to seek my input.

“Tell me what you want, Bambi.”

But there were no words that could truly, adequately explain what I craved from him. I wanted him to unleash that darkness and pain on me, to feel the true, unlimited power of him.

So I tried to come as close as I could.

“Show me… _everything_ that you couldn’t show me before.”

His chest heaved with his urgent breath, the pads of his fingers pressing into my face harder now. He was still holding so much back, and I didn’t know how else to tell him that he didn’t have to.

I could see the impending solar eclipse of his soul and I was willing to risk the permanent damage if it meant I got to experience what it was like to be shrouded in his shadow.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve just asked me to do?” There was so much fear in his voice. His hands were shaking as he tried to withhold the urge to follow through on what I had asked, without any precautions. To punish me for even requesting such a foolish thing.

I grabbed his wrists, drawing them down my chest. Holding them steady against my breast, I let him feel the way my heart beat quickly, but evenly. I let him feel the evidence of my knowing thrill; the rhythm of my want.

“ _Show me._ ”

Those damned hands twitched with resistance still, his head drooping forward to press into mine. His eyes were closed, like the sight of me would break his concentration. He was trying so hard not to hurt me that I had to take it as a compliment.

“How will I know when you can’t handle it anymore?” He rasped, his hunger now bleeding through his voice.

“I’ll tell you.”

“How?” His answers were quicker now, his lips caught in a cycle of leaning closer and then stopping themselves from actually making contact with mine. With a small giggle, I drawled out a single word.

“ _Flower_.”

I could practically hear the line from the Disney film which was my eponym, playing through my head: _He can call me flower if he wants to_.

“You trying time tell me something, Bambi? Not happy with your nickname anymore?”

Bypassing the place where I had set his hands, he smoothed his hands down my sides, testing the way I reacted when he squeezed my hips, pressing his own against them.

“Just thought it was cute.”

“You know,” he started, pausing for a breath and watching my tongue dart over my lips, “you don’t shake as much as you used to when I touch you.”

This time he brought a hand to my throat, relishing the fact that I still extended my neck, granting him the access.

“That needs to change.”

Deciding to push the boundaries he seemed hellbent on setting, I summoned my own devious side to taunt him. “Then do something about it.”

“Oh, you need something more exciting?”

Wasting no time on pleasantries or permission, he guided me by my neck, pressing my face and chest against the window to our left.

“I can do that for you, Bambi,” he whispered cruelly in my ear, his hands now simultaneously working to both pull down the top of my dress and hike up the bottom. 

The coldness of the glass hit my breast as he nearly tore my dress open, and I braced myself against the window the best I could.

“Dr. Reid! There are people! Th-they can see us!” I cautioned, but he didn’t seem to care. No, I could hear the unbuckling of his pants as his hand collected the excess fabric of my dress, pulling it up to reveal the simple cotton underwear in his way… for about three seconds, before he tugged those down, too.

“Then let’s give them a show.”

Struggling to remain standing now that my legs were doing that very unhelpful thing of trembling at his touch, I was forced to press harder against the window.

“B-but!” I called to no avail. His hand was already cupping my mound, his fingers slipping into my heat with ease. “Dr. Reid, wait!”

“You getting shy on me now, Bambi?” He asked, not even bothering to slow down. He could feel the way my body was reacting to his touch. Aside from the wetness allowing his fingers to glide effortlessly in and around my sex, my hips were trying to ride his hand.

“You didn’t seem to mind about getting caught before,” he reminded me, forcing me to recall our previous trysts, “when you could have just told them that the _batshit crazy murderer_ held you down and fucked you against your will.”

The moan that left my mouth at his words surprised both of us, and he chuckled as it gave him yet another glimpse into my mind.

“I wouldn’t have— I wouldn’t say that,“ I tried to plead, but he wouldn’t let me.

He laced his fingers in my hair before pressing the side of my face against the glass, his other hand now angrily thrusting into me at a breakneck pace.

“Is that why you liked it? You want to be fucked by a _predator_ , Bambi?”

I wanted to argue with him, to tell him that it wasn’t true. But it was. There was something so incredibly alluring about the idea that he could listen to me begging him to stop, telling him that he was hurting me, and know that he still couldn’t resist taking me for himself.

Of course, I trusted that he would never actually hurt me. But how could I justify that, having barely known him for a couple months?

I didn’t have time to think about it, because his voice was louder in my ear now, my back arching against him as he withdrew his hand. Seconds later, he had replaced it with his cock, slamming into me without pause.

“Go ahead, Bambi. Beg me to stop.” He ordered as he began fucking me into the glass, his hand in my hair allowing my face to bounce against the glass with each thrust.

“ _Try_ to fucking stop me. I **dare** you.”

Despite all the evidence to the contrary, I reiterated my firmly held belief. “You wouldn’t h-hurt me.”

It was apparently not the right thing to say, because within seconds he had pulled out of me, dragged me by my hair, and threw my back into the wall again.

There was only the briefest time during which his hands weren’t on me, but then they were back with a vengeance. It was the first time his hand on my throat was unsteady, the power behind his grip wavering with his sanity.

“You sure about that? What are you willing to risk on your little unethical _psychoanalysis_?”

Slamming into me once more, I could see the way his mind became further clouded with lust. I had asked for darkness, and that was what I got.

“I’ve hurt a lot of people, Bambi,” he damn near moaned, “I nearly killed five men in that prison.”

“You didn’t though.” Both my hands flew to his hand on my neck, trying and failing to loosen his grip. Well, I thought, he did dare me to try to stop him. He told me he wasn’t going to let me.

“But I wanted to,” he admitted, the truth burning in his words.

“You aren’t a killer.”

“I’ve killed plenty of people, Bambi,” he laughed, “And you want to know something? I fucking **_love_** it.”

His hand was getting even tighter now, and I choked on my spit as his thrusts also garnered intensity. My nails were digging into his hand, sure to leave marks in their wake.

“I could kill you right now. Those people wouldn’t even hear you scream from in here. Assuming you even _can_ scream.”

He brought his face in front of mine, a smirk so full of wicked malevolence that it actually struck fear in my heart.

“Do you still trust me, Bambi? I could kill you _right now_ and you would cum on my cock as I did it.”

I couldn’t breathe. I tried to convince myself that he was only playing a game, but something in his voice told me that he honestly believed what he was saying. I could feel the reserves in my lungs draining, and I tried to show him the terror in my eyes.

“Maybe I should do it.” He said with perfect clarity. “You ever died before Bambi? Cause I have. _I can show you_.”

The taunt was too cheerful, too full of actual desire to be comfortable. Jerking my body against him, my eyes clenched so tightly I feared I’d never be able to open them again.

“S-Spencer…” His name barely fit in my mouth, but after it his grip loosened to less than half the intensity, his eyes quickly clearing into the light.

“ _F-F… Flower._ ”

No sooner had the word left my mouth than he completely withdrew his hand and pulled out from inside me, catching my body as it collapsed in on itself. My lungs burned as they tried to fill all at once, shaking uncontrollably in his arms.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he calmly whispered, picking me up while being sure to cradle my head, carrying me to the bed behind us. He laid me down onto the bed with the utmost delicacy, his hands continuing to stroke gentle, tender lines to remind me he was still capable of softness.

“I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

I believed him, keeping my eyes closed while I breathed in the sound of his voice. It was not only my lungs that needed to catch up, my mind and my heart immediately recalling why I trusted him in the first place.

He had stopped, immediately and without any question.

“Hey,” he called as he cupped my cheek, begging me to open my eyes to look at him. Once I was able to, my heart swelled with the childlike innocence I found.

He had fallen to his knees beside the bed, peering over the mattress like he had broken his mother’s favorite vase.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you,” he reassured me, his hands only stopping their insistent exploration when I took hold of them myself.

“I’m okay.”

“Did I hurt you?” He did _not_ believe me, immediately following it up with an ashamed frown.

“No, Spencer, I’m okay. Just…. I just need a minute.”

It didn’t matter what I said, he had already seen the distress and it was etched into his memory forever now. I felt bad, but only because it was obvious he was taking this harder than I had.

He was a good man. Troubled, no doubt. But ultimately good.

And he proved it, with the next words out of his mouth being the very gentle, “What can I do? How can I help you?”

I smiled, trying to pull him closer to me, but he resisted. I sighed, turning my head to look more fully at him. “Stop looking like a kicked puppy. I’m _fine_.”

“I can’t help it,” he whined, his pout becoming even more obvious when his voice cracked, “I hurt you.”

That was the way he wormed his way into my heart, burrowing into a part of me that I hadn’t given away in so long. I didn’t need to tug any harder at his hands, because he could see the love in my eyes.

“No, you didn’t, Spencer. Come here. Come to me.”

He finally complied, ungracefully climbing onto the bed and curling up against my side. His hands were still too afraid to really touch me, relying on me to place them.

But when I tried to place one back on my chest and over my heart, he stopped me.

“No, we’re done. I don’t want to make it worse.”

I took a deep breath, still tugging at his hand until he finally let our skin meet once more. The flood of oxytocin seemed so immediate, I sighed with relief.

“Spencer, please. I want you to touch me. You know how important it is.”

He was too smart to think that he could get away with not touching me after everything that had happened. I needed him now more than ever, to remind me that he still found value in me after threatening to kill me (whether seriously or not).

His fingers tested the waters of touching me again, feeling the goosebumps raise in his wake.

“You’re shaking.”

I had to laugh, giving him a small nod and swallowing down the last of my fear as it melted away. “I thought that was your whole goal.”

His arm slipped around my waist, and he clung to me like a magnet to iron. The way his breath settled on the neck he had choked moments earlier felt like the chaotic silence after a storm.

“Bambi…” He spoke, and I heard the meaning behind the word. He was begging me to forgive him, to hold him, to love him all the same. It was my turn to rake my hand through his hair, letting him be vulnerable with me.

Once he was ready, he looked up at me to see the truth of my feelings through the proverbial windows to my soul.

And what he found was exactly what I had promised.

“You’ve shown me the darkness you hold,” I said softly, bringing his face to mine. “Now show me everything else.”

Finally able to breach that space between us, I could feel the breath shudder into his lungs. He kissed me like he never had before, filled with mercy and heartache at the thought of causing me pain.

It was cheesy to admit, but I felt the way my eyes threatened to weep, my hands guiding him back to his rightful place above me. Unbuttoning his shirt I pushed it off his shoulders, baring his chest to me.

He helped me up, deftly pulling my dress up over my head to reveal my naked body to him for the first time.

The amber flecks in his eyes looked like the sparks of a bonfire, lighting a flame to thaw the chill we had been carrying for too long. As he stripped off his pants, I spread my limbs along the sheets, trying to commit the silk and softness to memory. And when his lips returned to mine, he kissed me like it were the only way he could breathe.

“There is so much light in you, Spencer.”

I gave him the words like a vow. I gifted them to him with another kiss, my body rolling up against him to display the thoughts I was always too afraid to speak.

This time when he entered me it was born out of a desire to be one with me. It was not violent or angry. It was patient and kind, the sensation lighting my nerves like shooting stars across the blanket of the night.

 _We can glow together_.

He held me in his arms as he did the closest thing to making love I’d ever found. The way our bodies melded together, giving and taking like they were made of the very same being.

The noises he made weren’t as lewd as they were beautiful, a quiet thanks for giving him a home within me.

Because I wanted him to be home with me. I wanted to be the place where he would always be loved. He would always be safe.

 _You are safe here_.

He must have heard me, because with his face against my neck I could feel the warm dampness of his tears soaking into my skin. My limbs now wrapped around him like I could hold all of him in the eight ounce muscle beating in my chest.

 _I love you_. And I knew it was naive to call it love, but I could not deny the reality of it all.

 _I love you_. Could he hear me?

 _I love you, Spencer Reid_.

His mouth was on mine again, and I sobbed a soft moan into his mouth as our tears mixed on the canvas of my cheeks. We didn’t stop to ask why or try to hide them from the other.

When his thrusts began to falter and his breath hitched in his throat, I felt my body respond in kind. The next time he pressed into me, I pulled him to me with all of the strength I had left.

I held him within me as my body shook around him, my head falling back as I called out his name with a heartrending moan.

“I’m yours,” I sobbed, echoing what I had told him back in the doctor’s office of the prison. It had been true then, and it was even more so now. But what I wasn’t expecting was what followed.

“And I am yours, (y/n).”

It was hard to distinguish the butterflies in my stomach from his warm seed pouring into me. With it came the feelings he was also terrified of sharing, which I also accepted with open arms.

“I’m yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! There is a potential continuation of this story, but I have no idea when I'll ever get to it. Just a heads up - more info is available at my tumblr under the same username!


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